


the part of me i can't let go

by greenandgolden



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: 2018 Grammy's, Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-05 13:54:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14620026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenandgolden/pseuds/greenandgolden
Summary: He’s just finishing up with the press when a woman from Access Hollywood asks him how he feels about seeing Zayn after all this time and if he thinks it’ll be awkward, the fact that they’re sat next to each other.It’s a testament to his training that Harry doesn’t outwardly flounder at the statement. His brain is having a hard time trying to process the news but his mouth is already moving before he can fully digest what she’s just said.





	the part of me i can't let go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaan_z](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaan_z/gifts).



> i've never written canon before so i hope this is okay! 
> 
> for the prompt: harry and zayn both attend the 60th Annual Grammy Awards. Harry received a nomination for Album of the Year, whilst Zayn is nominated for Best Pop Duo. 
> 
> What happens when Harry and Zayn are assigned seats next to each other?
> 
> title from Chicago's "hard to say i'm sorry"

The rising sound of screams tells Zayn who’s arriving without having to look. He keeps his eyes on the woman interviewing him even as she glances over to see who’s causing all of the commotion. Zayn looks to his right, internally sighing when he sees he only has two more interviews before he’s free to go inside.

“Looks like your old bandmate just arrived,” the woman tells him, looking a little too excited as she focuses back on him. “You’re both nominated for your first Grammy’s tonight.”

“We are,” Zayn nods, tugging on the small hoop in his ear. He tries not to duck his head down, his telltale signal that he’s nervous. He’s been working on being more confident during public appearances, but Harry’s always been a soft spot.

“You’re nominated for best pop duo for your collaboration with Taylor Swift. Any bad blood between you and Mr. Styles, seeing as you’re working with his ex?” Zayn nearly rolls his eyes at the terrible pun but manages to compose himself, not wanting to look like a dick.

“Nah,” he shrugs, playing it cool. “He’s a busy guy, selling out arenas and all that. I’m sure he hasn’t got the time to worry about what I’m up to.”

“You’ve said in previous interviews that you two weren’t very close during your time in One Direction. Many fans were shocked to hear that considering there are numerous videos and interviews that depict you seeming to be very comfortable around one another.”

Zayn blinks, his mind racing as he tries to come up with something to say that won’t cause a meltdown within the One Direction fandom. He’s just opened his mouth, unsure of what’s going to come out, when they get interrupted.

“We need to move on,” an assistant tells them and Zayn smiles and politely thanks the interviewer, ignoring the way she tries to reach for him, like a touch to his arm will get him to stay.

It takes another ten minutes before he’s finished, having stopped by a group of fans to sign autographs and take as many photos as the time allows. They’re the reason he’s here living out his dream, after all.

Zayn follows Griff as he leads them inside, nodding hellos and shaking hands with people from his label, thanking them as they wish him luck. There’s a bar to the left and Zayn makes a beeline once he’s free, knowing he won’t be able to sneak out for a quick smoke so a drink to take the edge off is his best bet.

“You alright?”

“I’m good,” Zayn exhales, running his hand over the scruff of his jaw as he waits for the bartender to make his way down. “Just wish they’d move on from that, y’know? Tonight’s about our own stuff, not all that old shit.”

“You guys were the biggest band in the world at one point, they’re never not gonna ask.”

“I know,” Zayn sighs, thanking the bartender and sipping his Jack and Coke as he looks over the room. He sees someone he recognizes from Harry’s camp just outside the doors and feels his pulse kick up. It won’t be long until he has to face him for the first time in years. He takes another drink, draining the glass before he turns back to the bar for another. A little liquid courage never hurt anyone.

\---

Chaos. That’s the only thing Harry can think when he steps out of the black car and onto the carpet. He sees several familiar faces immediately, sending smiles and waves in every direction as he listens to Jeff and some woman he’s never met coordinate the next thirty minutes of his life.

“He’ll walk the carpet first, interviews at the end. We’ve promised three minutes each and all questions have been preapproved. A seating attendant will be waiting at the end of the press line to escort you into the theatre and to your assigned seats.”

Harry tunes out after that, the screams of fans and paparazzi drowning out whatever Jeff says back to the woman. He tugs at the lapels of his suit and adjusts his shirt, knowing his stylist will rip him a new one if he looks a mess in photos.

“Right this way,” someone says to him, a man with giant headphones and a clipboard. Harry murmurs his thanks and moves toward the red carpet, spotting John Legend and P!nk further down the line. He’s right behind Kendrick Lamar and his hands begin sweating, his nerves taking over at the thought that he’s even nominated alongside some of these people.

“Relax,” Jeff whispers, squeezing his shoulder before gently nudging him forward.

The flashes are blinding as he poses for photos, alternating between his best blue steel and the occasional smile, knowing the crowd of photographers and his fans will love a shot of his signature dimples. People are shouting at him to turn every which way, to look in their direction, to give them different angles.

He’d considered going with a classic look, like the clean black suit that had arrived from Calvin Klein with a note wishing Harry luck, and not-so-subtly asking him to don their clothes. But he’d gone the untraditional route, which he tends to do, making a statement with a purple glitter Gucci suit custom made just for him with a glittery gold blouse underneath, ruffles flowing down from his neck to his navel. 

Ryan Seacrest is the first person waiting to talk to him when he steps away from the cameras. He smiles politely and answers all of his questions; who he’s wearing, how excited he is to be nominated for his first Grammy, how thrilled he is for his good friend James Corden to be hosting and which performances he’s looking forward to seeing.

He speaks to Rolling Stone and the Associated Press, Billboard and Entertainment Tonight. They all ask the same questions and he tries his best to reword his answers, remembering an article he’d read online once from the Daily Mail that referred to him as an “industry robot.” That’s a title he’d rather not be labeled again.

He’s just finishing up with the press when a woman from Access Hollywood asks him how he feels about seeing Zayn after all this time and if he thinks it’ll be awkward, the fact that they’re sat next to each other.

It’s a testament to his training that Harry doesn’t outwardly flounder at the statement. His brain is having a hard time trying to process the news but his mouth is already moving before he can fully digest what she’s just said.

“It’ll be good to see him, it’s been a long time. Thank you,” he politely dismisses himself, not knowing if her time with him is actually up but also not caring. He needs a second to himself, away from prying eyes.

“This is a joke,” Harry mumbles, allowing Jeff to guide him inside, steering them away from the crowd and toward an alcove where they can have a moment of privacy. When they’re alone, Harry pulls his arm from Jeff’s grasp. “How did this happen?”

“I don’t have control over the seating arrangements, H. You’re two of the hottest acts out there right now, it makes sense that you’re both front and center.”

“But _right next_ to each other?”

“I know it’s not ideal-“ Jeff starts, typing something into his phone, ignoring the furious look on Harry’s face.

“Ideal,” Harry hisses in disbelief. “Ideal would be not having to interact with him at all. Having to spend the next two hours by his side is so fucking far from ideal-“

“Listen.” Jeff locks his phone and slides it into the pocket of his trousers and speaks lowly so there’s no chance anyone will hear them. “This is the fucking Grammy’s, H. You’re nominated for Album of the Year, your _first_ nomination, and all on your own. Do you really want the takeaway headline to be that you threw a fit over being sat next to your ex bandmate?”

“Of course not but-“

“Then plaster a smile on your face and get through the night without causing a scene, okay?”

Jeff walks away then, not bothering to wait for a response from Harry. They both know he’ll be professional, that he’ll do what needs to be done for the sake of his career, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Harry takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and willing himself to calm down. His heart’s racing uncomfortably in his chest and he wishes he could say it’s because he’s nervous about whether or not he’ll win and not because of what he’s already lost.

\---

“Good luck tonight.”

“You too,” Zayn answers, fisting his hands to keep them from shaking as he watches Jay-Z’s back as he makes his way over to where Beyoncé and their daughter are sitting. Jay-fucking-Z, one of his idols, just came up to him to say hello and tell him how he enjoyed his album. He doesn’t know if there will ever be a day, no matter how famous he gets, where he isn’t star struck when someone he’s looked up to tells him they’re a fan of his work.

“You good?” Griff asks, suppressing a laugh as Zayn takes his seat.

“Shut up.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if you came in your pants just now.”

“Tell me again why we’re friends?”

Griff laughs off Zayn’s comment, squeezing his shoulder as he looks around. Zayn notices the moment that he tenses up, his smile slipping as he looks over Zayn’s shoulder. And Zayn, ever the observant one, feels the shift in the room and knows who’s coming his way without having to turn around.

“Sure you don’t want to switch seats?”

“Yeah,” Zayn nods, lacing his fingers together in his lap. Unlike Harry, Zayn had blessedly been given a head’s up about who he was sitting next to. He’d thought about reaching out and asking to be put somewhere else but in the end he’d decided to let it go. He’s a grown man, he can survive a couple of hours sat next to his ex…everything. He hopes. “Don’t wanna give the press more shit to talk about.”

“Fuck that,” Griff huffs, leaning his elbows on his knees as he watches Harry approach, watches the way he works the crowd and shakes everyone’s hand. He doesn’t know Harry from Adam but he knows what Zayn’s told him and heard the petty comments Harry had made after Zayn left so he knows enough to not be a fan.

“It’s fine, honest.” Zayn smiles at him before turning toward the stage, ignoring the flash of purple he catches in his peripheral and keeping his eyes straight on the stage. “Stop glaring.”

“Remember what I said,” Jeff murmurs as they approach their seats. They’re dead center to the stage which means that any tension between Harry and Zayn is bound to be caught on camera. Harry’s about to embark on a worldwide tour and Zayn’s dropping his sophomore album any day. Neither of them can afford any drama. “Be nice.”

“Always am.”

Harry slows to a stop as he reaches his seat, preparing himself for the moment that Zayn turns to him and he gets to see his face up close in person for the first time since 2015. And when it happens, when Zayn glances up and their eyes lock, Harry realizes no amount of time could prepare him for the ache in his chest when he gets a look at those eyes.

“Zayn.”

“Harry.”

“It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah,” Zayn nods, getting to his feet. He stares at Harry’s hand for a moment before he slides his palm against Harry’s and squeezes, trying to soften the moment with a smile. He remembers the first time he saw Niall in public after he left, how stunned he’d been that Niall even stopped by to say hello at the AMA’s and how stupid Zayn had looked with his wide eyes and open mouth because he had assumed that Niall hated him. Then again, he hadn’t been head over tits for Niall so there’s really no comparison. “You too.”

“Congrats on the nomination.”

“You too. I liked the album, very you.”

That seems to catch Harry off guard, his mouth dropping open as Zayn pulls his hand back.

“You listened to it?”

“’Course,” Zayn shrugs, wiping his sweaty palms on the inside of his pants pockets. “Listen to all of your guys’ stuff.”

“Right,” Harry nods, pressing his lips together. Not just Harry’s, all of theirs. He’s nothing special, not to Zayn, just another one of the boys that he used to work with. “Well, enjoy the show, yeah?”

“Yeah. You too.”

They don’t speak for the duration of the show, keeping to themselves as they laugh at James’ jokes (which thankfully are not about them) and clapping after performances. They stand to stretch their legs and mingle during commercial breaks but make sure to keep their distance, even if inside they’re both itching to speak to the other.

They hold their breath as their respective categories are announced and smile for the cameras when they pan over to them.

Neither of them win.

\---

They both end up at the Sony after party. Zayn ditches his jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his white button down, feeling more comfortable than he has all night.

He takes photos with various celebrities and talks to the CEO of his label who gushes to the group of men around them about how good Zayn’s next album is and Zayn can only smile. It’s still surreal that this is his life. He gets to hang out with famous people and drink expensive booze and doesn’t have to pay for most of his clothes because designers would kill to have him be seen in their apparel. No matter what anyone says or how people spin his words, he’s always been grateful for the opportunities that he’s been given, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

Harry’s just ending a conversation with Tori Kelly when he sees Zayn at the other end of the bar, smiling and chatting with the bartender as he waits for his drink. Harry will never admit that his jealousy is what gets him to go over there but he’s had a few drinks and seeing Zayn being comfortable with a stranger when he can’t even look at Harry hurts.

“Having fun?” he asks, watching Zayn’s shoulders tense up as he sidles up to Zayn’s side.

“Loads,” Zayn tells him, taking a sip of his drink (whiskey if Harry had to guess) and turning his body toward Harry. “You?’

“Yeah, it’s nice to catch up with people I haven’t seen in a while. Saw you talking to Abel earlier. You two must have so much in common, dating sisters and all that.”

It’s a low blow and Harry knows it but it hits the mark. Zayn looks up from his glass, his eyes dark and lips pressed into a thin line like he’s trying to stop his thoughts from spilling out.

“We have mutual interests.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“You know what,” Zayn laughs under his breath, setting his glass aside. “I’m gonna head out. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“That’s right, run when things get tough. That’s your go-to move, yeah?”

“Harry.” Jeff is at his side in an instant, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Not here.”

Zayn watches the interaction, the way Jeff’s touch seems to ground Harry. The heat in his eyes disappears and is replaced with a sudden blankness that Zayn knows all too well. Harry’s always been able to shut himself down at the drop of a hat. Zayn never knew whether to admire that or hate it.

“He’s right,” Zayn nods at Jeff. “Wouldn’t want anyone in here to see you’ve actually got feelings.”

Jeff waits until Zayn’s out of earshot to try to talk to Harry but he gets pushed away before he can get a word out.

“Don’t,” Harry snaps, walking away and leaving Jeff to stare after the both of them.

\---

Zayn shuts the water off and reaches for a towel, rubbing it over his head before he secures it around his waist. He goes about his normal nightly routine, brushing and flossing his teeth, moisturizing his face because LA always tends to dry him out.

He had come straight home from the after party and called Gigi, needing a familiar voice to calm him down and help him clear his head. She listened to him tell her how awful it was, sitting next to Harry and acting like they barely knew each other. Even though they’re broken up, she’s still one of his best friends, their love for each other transcending beyond their romantic relationship and into a solid friendship that he’s grateful for. She gets him in a way that no one else ever has, even Harry.

When he finished listening to her tell him that he needs to reach out to Harry, that they really need to talk everything out in order to be at peace, he decided to take a hot shower to wash the day away before he crawls into bed, unsure if he’s brave enough to take her advice and call Harry to work things out.

Unfortunately for Zayn, he doesn’t have a choice in the matter.

“Jesus,” Zayn gasps, his steps stuttering to a stop just outside of the adjoined bathroom as he nearly has a heart attack. His heart’s hammering in his chest as he stares at Harry whose reclined back on his hands at the end of the bed, his socked feet gently swaying back and forth. He’s in black skinnies and a plain white tee, a look Zayn hasn’t seen on him in so long and has the nostalgia bubbling up in his throat.

“Griff let me in.”

“Of fucking course,” Zayn grumbles, rolling his eyes. He’ll give Griff a piece of his mind once he gets rid of Harry. It’ll be the last time he meddles in Zayn’s personal life.

“You fucking him?” Harry asks.

“What?”

“I asked if you’re fucking him.” Harry pushes himself upright and drops his hands into his lap, fiddling with his rings. “He seemed pretty reluctant to leave us alone, and every time I see you in the mags he’s with you.”

“Are you fucking Jeff?” Zayn challenges. “Last I checked, having platonic friends is perfectly normal.”

“Touché.” Harry nods and looks down at his hands. Zayn watches him twist the rose ring back and forth and feels the gnawing ache in his stomach that he used to feel right before he and Harry would fight. It’s amazing how everything comes back to him in that moment, like the last three years never happened.

“Why are you here?”

“Dunno,” Harry shrugs, keeping his eyes down. “Felt like we left some things unsaid.”

“We did,” Zayn agrees, walking over toward his dresser. He doesn’t bother with modesty, Harry’s seen him in virtually every state possible so he drops his towel, biting his lip when he hears the quiet gasp Harry lets out. _Good._ “Three years ago.”

“I don’t think either of us were ready to talk this out three years ago.”

“I was.” Zayn pulls on a pair of basketball shorts over his briefs and turns to face Harry. “I was ready every time that I reached out to you. You’re the one who ignored me.”

“Because I was hurt.”

“And I wasn’t?” Zayn demands, feeling his temper rise. Harry’s always been able to get the best of him, even when he promises himself he won’t let Harry get under his skin. “Do you think it was a walk in the fucking park for me to leave? To leave _you_?”

“Sure seemed like it,” Harry shrugs because he’s a passive aggressive asshole when he feels like he’s being attacked. “Didn’t think twice before you walked away.”

“Fuck you,” Zayn spits, pointing a finger in Harry’s direction. “You don’t know a damn thing about what I went through.”

“Because you never told me.”

“I tried! For fuck’s sake Harry, I’ve tried for three years to talk to you, to clear the air, to gain back some semblance of a relationship but every time I reached out, you had your minions turn me away.”

“Because I deserved more than a text!” Harry shouts back, pushing to his feet. “I deserved to be told to my face that you were leaving, not to wake up to Louis throwing shit and Liam crying into a pillow. I deserved to be treated as more than a fucking _coworker_ Zayn.”

“I tried-“

“Not hard enough,” Harry laughs haughtily, shaking his head in disbelief. “You called after you landed back in London and said you were sorry. You sent a text and a letter and an email and everything but the one thing that I needed.”

“And what was that?” Zayn demands, throwing his arms up. “What the fuck else did you want?”

“You.” Harry feels the anger slowly seeping out of his body, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. “You’re the only thing that I wanted. And the only thing you wouldn’t give me.”

They stare at each other for a moment, Harry waiting for Zayn to say something and Zayn waiting for his brain to catch up. Harry was always the casual one, the one who was quick to never label what they were doing, to shrug it off as no big deal whenever Zayn had to dip out to answer Perrie’s calls. He had thought that Harry had just wanted to fuck around, that it was easier than finding someone to hook up with and worry about NDAs and tabloids, so fucking Zayn had been a win win. But by the way Harry’s staring back at him, eyes red rimmed and glossy like he’s one second away from breaking, maybe Zayn read it all wrong.

“You never said you wanted anything more.”

“You were engaged, Zayn. It was bad enough that we were fucking around behind her back. And we both know management would have shut it down the second they’d caught wind of us.”

“I don’t give fuck all about management. You should have told me-“

“That I was in love with you?” Harry smiles sadly at the utterly stunned look on Zayn’s face. He always thought Zayn knew how gone for him that he was but apparently not. Maybe they’re both idiots. “That it physically hurt every time you left on break or she flew in to visit you? That every time I let anyone touch me, I prayed that when I opened my eyes it would be you there and not some faceless stranger?”

“Harry-“

“Did you ever feel anything?” Harry asks, letting his guard down. He’s always been so good about keeping his emotions in check in front of others but he can’t do it anymore, not with Zayn. It means too much. “Was I just a distraction to pass the time?”

“Of course not,” Zayn gasps, feeling like he’s been punched in the stomach. “Haz, how…how could you think that?”

“You never said otherwise.”

“Neither did you!” Zayn cries, fisting his hands in his hair out of frustration. “I thought you were in it for the fun and convenience. I thought-“

“You _assumed_ ,” Harry corrects, moving toward the window. It’s dark outside, the only light coming from the city miles away and the security light in Zayn’s backyard. “You never asked-“

“Neither did you. I know I fucked up and I have _tried_ countless times to apologize but you need to take some responsibility in this too, Haz. You never once let on that you wanted more than an occasional fuck so you can’t pin this all on me, it isn’t fair.”

“You’re right.” It’s the first time that Harry’s admitting it but it feels good now, like a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. He is partially to blame for how this all went down, for not admitting his feelings when they started getting too heavy. He should have stopped them then and there, before either of them got hurt. “I’ve blamed you for all of it because you’re the one that left. And I’m sorry.” He tears his eyes away from the backyard and looks over at Zayn. “I’m sorry, Zayn.”

“Me too.”

“And I get why you left. I wasn’t happy about it because it meant I couldn’t have you but I understood why.”

“I was suffocating,” Zayn tells him.

“I know.”

“It had nothing to do with you, Harry. I would have taken you with me if I’d thought you would go.”

“But you wouldn’t stay for me.”

“I couldn’t.” Zayn takes a tentative step toward him, like he’s approaching an animal that’s easily spooked and he doesn’t want to scare Harry away. “That’s why I didn’t say anything before I left. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d have asked me to stay.”

“You would have,” Harry smiles sadly. “You would have stayed and continued suffering and I would have let you because I’m selfish and I wanted you with me. I just wish-“

“What?” Zayn asks when Harry trails off. He’s back to looking out the window so Zayn takes the opportunity to walk up behind him, keeping a little space between them until he feels Harry’s reluctance fade. “What do you wish?”

“That you’d have waited,” Harry whispers, feeling a tear roll down his cheek. “That you’d have held on another eight months, until the hiatus. None of this would have happened then.”

“You know I couldn’t.” Zayn holds his breath and reaches for Harry, one hand on his hip, and he nearly cries with relief when he feels Harry relax into him. “I didn’t have another tour in me, or an album.”

“I know,” Harry nods, warmth spreading through him as he feels Zayn’s other hand come up so he’s holding both of his hips and he’s pressed to Harry’s back. “I’m not mad anymore. I just…God, I missed you so much.”

“Me too,” Zayn whispers into the hair on Harry’s nape, breathing him in. “I missed you too.”

“Are you still with Gigi?”

“No.”

“With anyone?”

“No. You?”

“No.”

“So we’re both single, at the same time.” Zayn smiles against Harry’s neck and closes his eyes because this has to be a dream. He never thought he’d get this again, not with Harry. “That’s never happened before.”

Harry snorts out a laugh but it comes out watery as he reaches up and takes Zayn’s hands, pulling his arms around his waist. Their fingers slot together perfectly, resting over Harry’s stomach.

“I’m still in love with you,” he admits. He can see their reflection in the glass and it’s such a beautiful sight that it makes him cry harder.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was nineteen. I never stopped,” Zayn tells him, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “Don’t think I ever will.”

“I won’t hide.” Harry squeezes Zayn’s fingers and prays that Zayn won’t back away. “I want everything with you but I don’t want secrets. I don’t want to hide. We spent years tucked behind closed doors and I can’t do that again. Not this time, not with you.”

“I’m ready,” Zayn murmurs into his skin. “If you’re ready, I’m ready.”

“It won’t be easy.”

“I know.”

“I have a tour coming up and you’re about to promote your new album. We’ll be separated for weeks at a time.”

“Good thing I’m not afraid of flying anymore.”

“People are going to lose their minds, the _fans_ are going to go crazy, and it won’t all be good.”

“I’ve got thicker skin now, I can take it.”

“Zayn-“

“Harry,” he mocks, pinching Harry’s hip playfully. “If you’re ready, I’m ready. I want it all.”

“Yes.” Harry’s voice is strong and sure as he turns in Zayn’s arms, sliding his hands over Zayn’s bare torso until he can clasp them behind his neck. And when he looks into Zayn’s eyes, he doesn’t see a scared twenty-two year old anymore and something inside of him settles. “I’ve never been more ready.”

 

***

_Harry Styles & Zayn Malik Spotted Getting Cozy in Jamaica_

_What’s better than spending two months on a beautiful island with sand between your toes and umbrellas in your drinks? Having your gorgeous beau by your side, of course._

_Just ask Harry Styles. He and Zayn Malik, his ex-One Direction bandmate and presumed boyfriend of over a year, were spotted getting cozy at a local restaurant, surrounded by Styles’ entourage and later at a bar where sources claim they danced and drank before disappearing into the back of a black SUV headed toward the same house Styles had rented while he worked on his first album._

_While there are (sadly) no pictures, the source confirmed that Zayn has been with Harry for the duration of his stay while he presumably works on his second solo studio album, which makes sense as neither have recently been spotted around London, New York or LA, their usual stomping grounds. No word yet on if there will be any Styles/Malik collabs in the future but one thing is for sure; #zarry is here to stay._


End file.
